


Big Spoon

by blankdblank



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Relationship, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 07:27:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16990638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blankdblank/pseuds/blankdblank
Summary: A single caring gesture from the king who imagines you to be indifferent to him is met with an act only seen as your claiming him.





	1. Chapter 1

**“I’ve shown her my back Dwalin!”**  The Khuzdul hushed bark came from the Dwarf King as he glared at his Cousin across from him who was smirking at your eyes falling on the pair at their fifth argument today. Across the camp you set down the wood you were helping the Princes gather making their Uncle’s argument cease. In one hurried glance at you those striking blue eyes softened at the soft smile you flashed to Bilbo as you took your seat beside him. Then you glanced up at the rapidly turning King who gripped his Cousin’s vest pulling him closer to grit out beside his ear knowing you knew at least some of the common phrases of Khuzdul by your laughing at the Princes’ assumed private jokes weeks prior.  **“Should she not accept me soon I would not know her appearance any better than a passing acquaintance to describe her properly to Grandmother.”**

Dwalin smirked and drew back replying lowly,  **“Then perhaps we should instruct one of our kin to, suggest her tugging on your vest.”**

Thorin grumbled wishing you would simply put him out of his misery and either accept or refuse his offer of courtship to you. Ages now since the beginning of their race the only ones Dwarves would ever show their back to were ones they trusted greatly. Kin being the obvious ones to gain this privilege, the other being obviously the one they would freely give their hearts to. So to one race where the abrupt turn away from someone would mark shunning was an invitation to snuggle against or lean on the back and shoulders of the suitor, should they return the affection.

…

For all his standoffish ways in every chance you got to steal a glimpse of those elusive blue eyes and smile only his kin had witnessed freely in your absence. In each chore off camp you had a habit of lingering for just a moment after the others tasked with protecting you with either a loose lace on your boot or a faked sneeze to steal one last peak at the confident smirking or smiling King always seeming to be planning great things for his future until the moment you arrived and he would turn away. His back was nearly all you saw, cementing the fact he still had not gotten past his original decision you were not meant among his Company, and your assigned guard left you nearly close to leaving at his apparent belief you were unable to defend even yourself.

But quietly you sat and focused on what you could to not cry each time his back was shifted to you. All through dinner once again you shared with Bilbo a retelling of his favorite Elvish fables from a book he’d had in his library he often read to calm himself that brought a deep ache in his chest knowing he’d forgotten to pack it. Afterwards as the stars came out you claimed your usual place on the edge beside Bilbo. Though after his return from the edge of camp to take his own place Thorin’s eyes halted on you, in your curling up trying to force your same doubts from your mind he mistook that as your struggle for warmth on this, the first chilly night on the nearing fall.

Wetting his lips he made a stop at his bags collecting his bed roll and laid it out behind you. In a cautious dip he knelt and undid his belt securing his outer vest and laid the thick fur lined layer over you lovingly before securing his belt again. With one last glance over your face at the peaceful expression you had forced and held, at the sound of someone approaching and stopping beside you. 

He lowered down onto his side with his back still facing you, though this time due to the knowledge he would certainly snuggle around you if he were facing your back, an action only saved for securing your status as engaged fully. Simply at your presence behind him, he dropped heavily into sleep, snoring soundly as your eyes opened to glimpse at the vest covering you with wide eyes before shifting onto your back to send a quizzical glance at the back of the Dwarf who had spent the past couple months who had now draped a near steaming coat seeming to be large enough for a tent for the pair of you.

In your struggle not to send an irritated jab a his rib cage for his confusing ways you shifted closer to him, freezing at his halt in snoring to shift his head resting on his upturned and curled arm before returning to his snores. After a glance over the Dwarves around you, the bedroll under you, at your lifting, was moved to rest against his after you eased one side of the coating over his back leaving you plenty still as you settled on your back silently hoping he wouldn’t simply roll onto his and crush you in his sleep.

…

Under the early morning light to the sound of gold clinking Thorin’s face peeked out from under the fur lining of his vest to peek out at the face of his smirking Cousins. A crisp breeze blew over the patch of exposed skin on his face before his eyes fell to the vest coating him. With widening eyes he swallowed dryly at what he assumed to be your refusal for any and all attentions for him, until he glanced up at Dwalin at his next snicker. His shout at the painful moment was killed before he attempted it at the hand clutching his outer shirt tighter as the arm it was attached to tightened around his middle. In a peek under the vest the hand clearly belonging to you was clutching onto his outer shirt while through his thick layers he felt the nudge of your knees and shoulders pressing against his back and legs as the shifting of his hair and an irritated grumble sounded through his collar from his irritating fidgeting covering your face with his hair.

Thorin in all his wishing and planning for your clinging onto his back had gone entirely blank as what to do next, but with an awkward flop Roac had landed after being slapped in the face with a giant leaf missing his spot on Thorin’s shoulder and fell onto your face. A stunned grumble came from you as Bofur raced over and gently cradled the bird allowing you to sit up with your eye clamped shut as your hand tapped your now bleeding cheek and forehead sending you over to the frigid stream near the camp. Within moments you were shadowed by Oin toting his medicine bag and Thorin had rolled to watch your race away from him only to hear a muffled shriek and a thud drawing the rest of the elders racing for you to find you on your back covering your face in frightened pants while Fili and Kili stood with sheepish glances at their Uncles, shouldering a giant boar they had killed for breakfast.

Oin speedily set out his bag as Balin wet the cloth he was handed as Dwalin led the boys to the stream to help prep the boar while Thorin knelt and settled your head onto his lap eyeing the scratches on your face through Gloin accepting and reading off Roac’s message from Gandalf on his latest trip away from you. A few dabs of the cloth and ointments later the superficial wounds nearly brought you to blush at the waste of the supplies until Oin’s glance down spotted the new tear in your pants along the edge of your knee. His body shifted drawing your eyes lower as you tried to sit up, only to have Thorin’s hands settle on your shoulders when he spotted the cut no longer bleeding but requiring mending. Thankfully the tear in your pants was large enough for Bilbo to slip his hands through it to wind the wrap around the bandage Oin had laid over the freshly cleaned and ointment coated wound.

After releasing your lower lip you were going to sit up only to have Thorin help raise you to a seated position and scoop you up in his arms and carry you back to camp, “You’ll be off the chore duties until your wounds heal.”

Turning your head you replied, “It’s merely a cut. I’ve faced worse. Surely I can’t be expected to sit aside due to a cut.”

When he had sat you on your joined bedrolls and covered you with his vest he replied, “You will sit aside until I say otherwise.”

Glumly you nodded shifting your gaze to your lap drawing his eyes back to the seemingly out of place expression, “I suppose this will be added to the list on reasons to leave me at the next village.”

Under furrowed brows he eyed your face again while the Dwarves looked you over realizing you weren’t joking and what you must have assumed they thought of you before Thorin replied sternly, “You are not leaving this Company. I would not trust any but my own kin for your safety.” Your eyes darted up to his face as he stood to go speak with his Cousins about why you would assume they would believe that past his single utterance of doubt against you in the Shire.

.

For days now you had been lifted up onto the back of your horse by the King, who remained at your side pinning you between him and Dwalin at the rear. At camp however his scowls did return each and every time you seemed to have been occupied with something or someone other than him. But the moment your hands were freed or your subject was drawn away he promptly plopped between your legs and leaned against you. The position forcing your hands over his shoulders and chest, soon to be covered by his until the sun would set and he would wait for you to settle and lay down before you, eventually shifting back closer to you until you were once again curled around him under his thick vest.

But a single slice of your sword left you with a painful slam to the ground just feet before the unconscious King brought you painfully covered in small wounds and bruises after killing the orcs and wargs that had injured him so severely. Beaten and bloody on the carrock Thorin awoke only to find Gandalf darting over to join Oin in inspecting your wounds. Under the thick orc blood coating you they managed to bandage the worst of your wounds Gandalf could not mend.

And Thorin gripped you tightly, curling your legs around his middle, soon to be strapped there by belts borrowed from his kin to secure you in place for the climb down and days of travel after. Even after the stop in Beorn’s hut it wasn’t until a white stag stood above you in the darkening forest sniffing you carefully your eyes flinched open from under the thick vest as Thorin curled as gently around you as possible. By morning you were surrounded by Elves all loaded with healing supplies and strict orders to lead you to the palace.

As your wounds healed a bargain was struck and the reasoning for your being chosen for the Journey was revealed as you sat at the top of the stairs in the treasury. Your wounds left you harmless in the beast’s eyes, even with your small dagger and a log in hand. Proudly he sat in a very regal pose while you whittled away, in a simple request for such a mighty model for your next piece. But as he examined the final product and his eyes locked with the figure’s his giant body froze and shrunk, turning into an identical copy of your statue. One sharp whistle from you later and Thorin was back to scoop you up in his arms while the others went to the forges, following your instructions with some enchanted smoking stones that would ignite on command enough to relight the long since abandoned gold and silver pits to heat the mountains and allow them to coat the statues sealing your enchantment from breaking.

Safely each measure was taken to secure your safety until you had woken curled snuggly in the King’s arms once again in his former bed chambers. Warmly under him and the blankets in this massive green marble room you watched the flames from the fireplace dancing across the room until your eyes lowered to see the glimmering stones on the ring carefully slid onto your finger bearing the Royal Crest. Any explanations would have to wait as you felt your lids drooping again at his snuggling closer to you through the spider carvings you had made through that week were being hauled to the forest by the Elves sent to collect them after passing on more supplies for their returned allies and the new future Queen among them.


	2. Chapter 2

Painfully your body gripped around the Dwarf King on the great climb up the winding secret set of stairs. Behind the Dwarves were the Elf King, Prince and Tauriel unwilling to leave your side when you had stated your intention to fulfill your contract. No matter what they would not share why they were so concerned for your safety and how a stranger in their lands. True Thorin himself had found your leaf shaped ears a point at the fact you were part Elf at least, but there was no reason they could find for the fierce loyalty you had gained without so much as a word of introduction to the King. Again Thorin rumbled lowly by your ear, “Are you feeling well?”

You nodded gripping the lining of his vest tighter as his knee bumped you a bit higher grinding the hilt of a hidden dagger into your thigh once again. “Just peachy.”

“How is the light?”

You sighed looking over the sunset in the distance, “It’s at that lovely reddish orange stage.”

His head darted to the left and his lips parted after he glanced up at the near half a mile left to climb, barely above a whisper he stated mournfully, “We’ll never make it in time.”

A tap of your finger on his nose brought his head to turn to lock eyes with yours, “Thorin, the world isn’t plunged into darkness when the sun sets.” His brows pressed together as the Dwarves below him peered up at him wondering why he’d stopped, “Climb to the top. Just trust me.” He sighed and resumed his climb.

.

Atop the ledge you straightened your shirt that dropped to cover to your mid thigh again under Thorin’s fur vest he’d draped over you before the climb. Thorin gasped staring at the beam of moonlight shining on the key hole. A turn of your head brought the Elf King to your view as he offered you the section of a fallen log you had chosen on the ride through his forest towards Erebor. Your arms circled around it and you followed Thorin and Balin inside the mountain feeling their eyes on your softly glowing skin flickering as it tried to light up the dark halls around you the farther you walked. That light settled and soon vanished from the Dwarves’ sight while the trio of Elves all lowered their eyes to the ground straining to listen to your barely audible steps growing fainter in the distance.

In the last turn a golden glow grew before you. The vast stretch of gold revealed when you walked through the large entrance glistened in the firelight with only a few specks of red scales through the largest of the piles in the center of the room. In a hazy shift the room swayed as your side burned from the pain lingering from your still heavily bruised ribs. Dryly your lips smacked and you crouched down to set the log on the deep green marble, a simple tap from its contact was all it took for an eye to shoot open and cause the iris inside to focus on you. Straightening again you flashed the giant rising beast a smile and wave halting his first thought to roast you right away as he eyed your disheveled, bruised and limping step to sit on the first step at the edge of the ledge across from him.

In a rumbling hiss Smaug’s voice sounded as he watched you set aside the large vest as you unscrewed the lid to your canteen for a quick drink, “Well…Theif…”

“Mmm.” As you lowered the canteen from your lips you raised a finger and screwed the lid back on replying, “My apologies, O Smaug, the Unassessably Wealthy. I merely came to offer you a simple, service.”

Tightly his legs settled together as his tail slung and tightened around his feet through his wings laying flat over his back in his straightening cat like stance, “And just what service could you offer to me?”

Unknown to him he missed the line of men trailing your path and waiting a hallway over around the corner listening in, refusing to wait on the ledge while you ventured in alone. “Well you see, I’ve just passed through the forest, and I’ve heard there, and in Laketown, and far past that really, that you’ve not been seen for 60 years now leading to the assumption you are dead.” His brow rose at the notion, “Now I knew otherwise and there’s been whispers of a plot by the greedy Master of Laketown to try and break in to take your gold.”

A low growl left the Dragon and his teeth were revealed for a moment in his threatened snarl.

“Now, I refused to believe that, and tried to convince otherwise, leading me to my offer of service.” Your hand moved to rest on the log, “I offer a carving, of you in all your magnificent prowess to take back to them revealing you are very much alive and fully capable to defend your hoard.”

“And in return?”

“Would it be possible to have a nap after? It is quite a distance, and my ribs, aren’t really up to scratch at the moment.”

His lips neared a pursed expression in his moment of thought before he asked, “That is all?”

You nodded, “I mean obviously my safe release would be added as well, but I truly have no wish to barter for gold. In fact I have quite a hefty purse waiting on me, a wager of sorts on the validity of your existence.”

“Ah. No need for my gold then.” His toes shifted and sank hungrily into the gold before him.

“Not a one. Besides, I find myself quite relived to be correct in fact.” In the hall the Dwarves’ eyes shot open at your words mirroring Smaug’s.

“Oh?”

You nodded, “Well you have to weigh the pros and cons, your rule, fiery attack and claiming of the mountain, thousands cast out and killed, but since then, sixty years of something close to a peace here. If the Men claimed the mountain they would quicken the Orcs and Goblins moving in, none could hold these lands borders like a creature of your caliber.” With furrowed brows Thorin signed for his kin to remain silent as Smaug gave an agreeing hum.

“I must say, of all those aiming to seek a path into these halls you are the most, intriguing, of all little Elleth. At first glance in your furs I had taken you for a Dwarf. That Oakenshield has sworn his vengeance upon me.”

With a giggle you replied, “Well no worries there.” The Dwarves tensed as Smaug shifted on the gold trying to work out what pose he would prefer to be captured in. “As you know Azog the Defieler had sworn his claim on the Durin line,” Smaug gave you a nod confirming he was still paying attention to you in his turn, “But I know for a fact Thorin fell at his feet not two weeks past.” Smaug froze as the Dwarves froze at Thorin’s fingers raising to his lips keeping himself silent at your words. “Where’d you think I got the vest.” Your giggle sounded as Smaug eyed the vest, particularly the runes marking the Prince’s name.

“Thorin is dead?”

“Dropped like a stone.”

Your smile easing one from the Dragon as he settled into a regal pose with wings propped slightly open and his chin raised proudly, “What of his kin? I am certain he would not venture alone.”

“Leapt off the edge of a cliff to avoid flames and a pack of wargs. Never even heard them hit the ground over the howling.” Smirks grew on the Company’s faces at your half truths revealing your gaining of the beast’s confidence for whatever plan you had settled on.

“And you simply waited until the beasts passed to scavenge?”

“I had stumbled my way through Goblin town, managed to find an exit after they’d captured me. My wounds, I was unconscious for days, I assume, after and laid hiding in a crevice in a rock side where I saw the whole thing. I had no coat and they stripped him for his armor and weapons, trophy no doubt. It would have been a waste to leave it.” He nodded, “Is that the pose you wish for?”

Smaug nodded again, “Yes, you may begin.”

You smiled up at him drawing a dagger from your right tall boot and turned to slide the log onto your lap. Inch by inch with each slice of your blade you slowly revealed a marvelous copy of the beast before you now milky eyed at your soft humming brightening your glow he could not see that seeped through the green marble lighting the mountain and filling the treasury with a soft mist allowing, at Gandalf’s reassurance the ability to peek in at you and make noise in the beast’s hypnotized state. 

One by one they watched the glowing piece of wood in your lap pulsing as shimmering streaks of light rippled across Smaug’s scales until you were finished and the mist dissipated allowing him to turn his head with a pleased grin at his ability to move again and ready himself for the final inspection. His voice rumbled through the hall, “Should you find yourself without a dwelling I have a great number here sized perfectly for you. Just you and that damn thrush in all these years to keep me Company. If I might, it is quite rude of me, might I know your name and lineage?”

You smiled as the Dwarves glanced at each other open mouthed at his generous offer to keep you as his pet, “That is quite a generous offer. I am certain in these past decades you’ve been content in all but company. I am Jaqiearae, Daughter of Orome and Vana.”

He nodded then froze when he recognized the names of two of the Valar at the same moment the Dwarves tensed realizing just who they have shared all these months with, “Daughter of the Great Hunter and the Ever Young Queen.” His head bowed to you, “An honor, truly. Remain with me and I shall have you adorned as a Queen for my halls.” 

His jaws settled as he drew his head in closer as you turned the statue then held it straight on for his eyes to lock with it. Instantly his scales glowed bright red as he shrank in the similar frozen pose to your statue that dropped into the pile of gold below him. With another swig from your canteen you let out a sharp whistle drawing their heads back in the vast hall curiously searching for the Dragon.

Peering around the hall the Dwarves searched but had no luck of finding him until you pointed at the gold heap stirring a loud round of laughs from the group. A reach in your bag you passed a sack of your smoking stones to Balin saying, “For the forges, he has to be coated in gold or silver to seal the spell.” Balin nodded and led Dwalin in collecting the set and waddling as fast as they could to the forges to complete their task as Thorin scooped you up in his arms rumbling against your ear, “You never mentioned your Parents.”

Your eyes met and you smirked back, “Had you turned around once and a while I might have.” Slowly his grip on you brought your pain back to the front of your mind and your eyes slowly drooped shut as your head rested against his shoulder while you mumbled, “I’m sorry for killing you.”

All eyes turned to glance at you with a smirk at your apology and sinking sleep you had fallen into signaling the Elves to join Thorin and the Princes on the path to the Royal Wing to beat the sheets on his old bed he was going to tuck you into as Bilbo nipped at his lip by Gloin’s side shifting through the gold for his contracted role.

..

Around you the room was scrubbed and supplies were brought in from Greenwood while the large bag you had left behind had been inspected in your hiding place in the Healing Wing. The dozens of small Spider statues after being mentioned to the King brought a smirk to his lips as he detailed through a letter how to use and seal them to clear the forest drastically shifting overnight as the seals were in place. All the boxes on Thorin’s to do list were checked off and he gladly scrubbed and pulled on is long since abandoned sleeping clothes and climbed into the bed he’d no doubt avoid for the memories it would stir up if not for you. Behind you he snuggled, wrapping his arms around you gently to nuzzle against you with a growing smile after having slipped the massive marker of courtship on your finger marking you as his future Queen.

 


End file.
